Page 75 of Red Queen

“Then leave,” I mutter, the taste of iron thick on my tongue.

“Rest well—you’ll need your strength if you hope to die with dignity.” With one last mocking curtsy, she exits the cell, and the heavy door slams shut behind her.

The silence left in her wake is deafening but welcome. Every breath I take trembles with effort, the copper taste of blood on my tongue a cruel reminder of my mortality. My thoughts turn to Alexandru, the general who fights by my side. His strength becomes my lifeline, his memory a refuge against despair.

We have stood together in this war, side by side, our swords singing songs of brutality to our enemies. Now, I grip that memory, letting the visions of our shared dreams and victories fortify me. He came for me. And got away to fight for me another day. To fight for the realms. With every thundering beat of my heart, I embrace the legacy of our partnership, letting its power become my own.

I clench my fists, nails biting into my palms.

No matter the pain, no matter the poison coursing through my veins, I am Eleanna Cordon. I am the fire that refuses to be doused, the blade that won’t dull. My reign has been forged in cruelty and honor, and I will reclaim what is mine.

Let the darkness come. I am ready for it, ready for whatever twisted game Catarina thinks she’s playing. This future queenwill become resilient once more, and I swear by the blood of my ancestors, Catarina will rue the day she dared to cross me.

Chapter

Fifteen

Alexandru

The cold, freezing air of my bastion’s courtyard cuts through my cloak as I watch Ivan strap his broadsword to his back, Nicolai checking the fletching on his arrows, and Marianne’s quiver is next to her, already checked and each arrowhead honed. She now sharpens her twin daggers with swift, precise strokes. The frost-covered ground crunches beneath our boots, a reminder of the perilous cruelty this season can bring about. My heart hammers against my chest, each beat a drum of war, echoing the turmoil within.

“General Amanar, we are ready.” Ivan’s voice breaks through my reverie. “With this new information from one of my spies who risked her life running from the kitchens to us… We know where she’s kept.”

“The back turret, where we can’t reach via the secret passages.” At least, I don’t think so. There are more than one, but most were blocked during the time of my betrothal to Eleanna. “I didn’t think about the long term cells.”

“Why would you? There has been peace for a while. And they aren’t advertised. Or used very often. My liege, it would be remiss not to remind you how perilous this mission is. To you.”

I nod, gripping the hilt of my sword until my knuckles turn white. Eleanna’s face haunts me—the last time I saw her, defiant even in defeat. I failed her then, and the acidic tang of guilt mingles with the metallic scent of impending bloodshed.

But love, that treacherous siren, sings louder than any fear, urging me forward. “Noted,” I say.

With a final look at my elite warriors, their eyes shining with oaths of loyalty, we mount our horses and gallop into the embrace of a moonless night.

We arrive at the castle under the cover of darkness, the imposing stone walls rising like an accusation before us. The others dismount, silent as night; our plan is a simple, dangerous one—calculated commotion from which I’ll carve a path straight to Eleanna.

“Create the diversion. I’ll get her out,” I command.

“Understood, my liege.” Marianne’s eyes gleam with a fervor only battle can ignite.

With a roar that shatters the stillness, Ivan leads the charge, Nicolai’s arrows finding homes in the throats of sentries before they can sound the alarm. Marianne moves like a wraith, her blades singing a feral lullaby. Their ferocity is a sweltering fire, spreading panic among the enemy ranks.

Blood sprays across stone walls and the snow-packed ground, drenching them in shades of horror. An enemy lunges at me—fangs bared, eyes wild. I sidestep, bringing my sword down in a vicious arc that separates head from body, its thud against the ground barely registering above the commotion of violence.

Ivan’s form moves through the melee, a symphony of rage and iron as he cleaves enemies in two, his strength monstrous, his resolve unyielding.

Nicolai stands atop a parapet, loosing arrows with fatal accuracy while Marianne frolics through the carnage, her laughter almost maniacal as she revels in the slaughter. They fight not just as soldiers but as unstoppable forces of nature bound by blood and blade.

Another vampire guard lunges at me. “Die, you bastard!”

“Over my dead fucking body.” I snarl, parrying his blow before thrusting my sword through his chest.

He gasps, his life spilling over my hands. I withdraw my blade, leaving him to crumble like a puppet with severed strings.

They come at me in waves, fangs flashing in the dim light, but they’re nothing more than whispers against nightfall. As each one falls, their blood is an exhibit of my fury, my love for Eleanna fueling every strike. Their bodies litter the stone floor, a grotesque mosaic of my passage, but there’s no time to savor the victory.

“General Amanar, go! We have this!” Nicolai says, another arrow finding its mark.

I take off, Eleanna’s name a mantra on my lips.

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